


Alone Together

by misssnowfox



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Anxiety, College Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Emotional Baggage, Emotions, First Meetings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, KageHina Week 2020, M/M, POV Kageyama Tobio, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Romance, the one where they fell in love in one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24739399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misssnowfox/pseuds/misssnowfox
Summary: He starts to lose his focus in a sea of voices that he doesn’t understand and there’s almost nowhere for him to stand now that he’s stopped walking because no one in this city seems to understand the concept of leaving space for people to stop and rest.Which is the precise moment when he takes a step back to avoid a group of screaming young men as they rush in front of him so hard he nearly gets spun around in a circle, and feels the thud of something against his back.____New York is the city that never sleeps, the city of dreams and the city of artists. Maybe it's also the place where a chance meeting can change your life.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 53
Kudos: 171
Collections: Kagehina Week 2020





	Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing artwork in this fic was made by the generous and wonderful and amazing Bie!!
> 
> Support them on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/moonbieee?s=20) and reblog the art on [Tumblr](https://moonbieee.tumblr.com/post/621073825092780032/i-made-this-for-alone-together-kagehina-fanfic)

The first thing Kageyama sees when he gets above ground is colour. 

At first, he wonders if it’s the stress of missing his stop, but no, those are actual crowds of people wearing rainbow coloured clothing, waving rainbow-coloured flags and being aggressively loud in a way he’s only seen rivalled in the most intense volleyball rallies. 

He gets accidentally shoved and prodded a number of times before he manages to fish out his phone to figure out where he went wrong. Which is the precise moment he realises that his data allowance for the day has run out. He should have just bought a local sim card and been done with it rather than risk getting stranded in the middle of what seems to be like a paint explosion. 

Is he even _in_ New York City anymore? The architecture here looks nothing like where he’d gotten on at the previous subway stop. 

He remembers Nishinoya mentioning that the city worked like a grid; that he could basically walk in one direction for long enough and he’d find himself back where he came from. And with his phone out of commission and no way to ask for directions, he looks to his left, then his right, and picks a direction to start walking in. 

It takes him about ten minutes to realise that Nishinoya is a born liar, because not only is this city not like a grid at all - in fact, there are streets coming from all different angles and directions - but he’s certain he’s nowhere near New York by now because all the numbers have disappeared. He assumes it must be a fluke until he passes a sign for _Christopher St_ that he starts to feel his heart racing.

Finding his way back is going to be physically impossible with no map, no sense of where he is and crowds and crowds of people in the middle of the street. Aren’t cars meant to be driving there? He checks his watch to see that it’s almost evening. The sun is already starting to become warmer in the sky, so if he doesn’t find his way back soon, he’ll literally be stranded here all night with no way to make it to the airport tomorrow. 

He starts to lose his focus in a sea of voices that he doesn’t understand and there’s almost nowhere for him to stand now that he’s stopped walking because no one in this city seems to understand the concept of leaving space for people to stop and rest. 

Which is the precise moment when he takes a step back to avoid a group of screaming young men as they rush in front of him so hard he nearly gets spun around in a circle, and feels the thud of something against his back. 

Purely on instinct, he lets out a whispered _excuse me_ in Japanese, and before he has a chance to turn around, he hears a nasally noise from the person he assumes he’s just bumped into. He turns fully and has to bring his eye level down to properly look the other guy in the face. His eyes are wide with concern, but Kageyama can’t be sure, because he doesn’t understand a word of what the other guy is babbling. It comes out as a tangle of soft vowel sounds and oddly-shaped consonants that he’s never been able to master in high school. God, he should have practised more English before he came here. Not that he ever thought he’d be stranded without even a phone to help him. 

The other guy is still talking - squawking, might be the best way to describe it - his hands gesturing to the pavement, to the crowds, to himself and everything else in between. Kageyama doesn't know how to interrupt him and he’s too distracted by the insane colours on his shirt in contrast with the bright orange hair on his head. Rainbow colours, he realises. The same as in the crowds. 

“Um…” Kageyama says, trying to remember the most basic of phrases he was taught years ago. “Don’t… understand…” he says in English, as clearly as he can manage. 

The redhead cocks his head to the side in a gesture that reminds Kageyama of a puppy. If puppies had terrible fashion sense and wore rainbow tank tops that showed their bare arms like that. He feels the guy stare him up and down as if only just taking in his appearance during this exchange.

Then, in perfect, unaccented Japanese, the redhead says, “Japanese?” and Kageyama’s senses prick up as though the other guy is a lifeline and he’s drowning in the ocean. When Kageyama doesn’t respond for a second, the other guy cocks his eyebrow and asks, “do you not speak Japanese?” 

It seems utterly ridiculous to ask the follow-up question _in_ Japanese, because how would he be able to answer him if he didn’t? 

Kageyama frowns and says, “No, I… I do.”

“Oh good!” The redhead says. It’s alarming how quickly his face is able to change. From narrow concerned eyes to bright and cheerful in the span of a second. “I was worried for a second because I don’t know a third one to try out, so I would have felt pretty bad.” 

He scrunches his eyes up at his own attempt at humour, but Kageyama is too relieved in being able to communicate with another breathing human in this rabble of bodies to fake a chuckle like he normally would. 

“Sorry for bumping into you like that!” the guy says. “I guess I shouldn’t be standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but these guys wanted a cigarette so I said I’d stand out here with them.”

Kageyama doesn’t recall asking, so instead of finding out more, he just says, “I bumped into you, actually.” He was hoping to ask the guy for directions, but he clearly can’t be trusted if he can’t even orient himself whilst stationary. 

“Did you? Crap, my bad, I swear, I’ve only had _one_ drink,” he gestures to the plastic cup in his hand, “and I’ve not even finished it, see?” 

“Yeah…” Kageyama mumbles. 

The redhead begins prattling on again and Kageyama is shocked that they haven’t had a single awkward pause in the conversation thus far. He’s not used to other people feeling slightly uneasy about him. He’s been told once that he has a pretty intimidating face when he’s at rest and he’s probably far from calm in his current predicament. It’s almost a breath of fresh air to realise that he won’t have to try and fill a weird silence for once, because the guy in front of him is doing enough talking for the two of them.

“I’m guessing you’re a tourist, huh? Pretty out of the way, aren’t you? What brings you all the way down here? Are you going to a party or something?”

So many questions at once, he’s not even sure which one he should tackle first. And he still can’t stop staring at that ridiculous _shirt._

“I… took a wrong turn.”

The guy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Pretty wide turn! Where were you headed?”

“Um… Mad… Something about a Square Garden. I had it written down.” He digs his phone out, but the other guy cuts in before he needs to check.

“Madison Square Garden,” he says, the smile in his voice audible. “That’s miles away, how did you end up here?”

“I got on the subway at the Times Square stop and I was supposed to get out at Madison Square Garden, but when the train stopped, I was… well, it wasn’t where I was meant to be.”

The other guy lets out a giggle so bright that Kageyama wishes he could replay it. “You dummy! You got on the express train!”

“The what?” 

“The express, it passes a bunch of stops. Rookie mistake, but don’t worry, we’ll sort you out in no time.” The smiles he gives Kageyama makes him believe that he could cure all the illnesses of the world, even though he's dressed as a circus clown. It irritates Kageyama how cheerful he is.

“Just let me finish my drink, yeah? Then I’ll walk you to wherever you need to go and make sure you get there safe.” Kageyama nods. That seems like the best plan out of the list of possible alternatives. “You wanna come in for a sec? I’ll buy you a drink, you can have it while I finish this?”

He’s taking time out of what looks like a social gathering in order to help a total stranger, so Kageyama doesn’t think it’s right to tell him that he’s not a fan of bars. He’s not much of a fan of anything that requires intense human interaction. 

“Yeah, okay,” he says instead, purely out of practised politeness. 

It’s incredibly stuffy in the bar, even with the AC turned on. They have to push and squeeze just to be able to order anything and it makes the hairs on his arms stand up at such close proximity to other people.

The other guy turns to him and asks, “any preference?” 

He’s only reached the legal drinking age back home a year or so ago and he barely feels the need to do even though he can. His skin prickles at the need to make a decision. “Something simple,” he says loud enough to be heard over the hum of customers. 

The redhead nods and shouts an order for something in English to the barman. 

“Do you have an I.D on you? You’re over 21, right?”

Kageyama nods and fishes out his passport.

“Thanks! You wanna find us a seat?” he asks. Kageyama didn’t think he’d be staying long enough for a _seat_. That generally means a conversation. But he nods anyway and finds a round wooden table a couple of steps up in a corner of the bar. 

“Something simple coming right up!” the guy says cheerfully as he plops himself down on the spare seat across from Kageyama. 

“So, are you here by yourself? How did you manage to get so lost? Minus the understandable issue with the subway, obviously.”

“I got separated from the rest of my team,” he says. “They were all dragged to the Disney Store by one of our teammates and I wanted to go see Madison Square Garden. It’s a really impressive sports venue.”

“Oh, do you play something?”

“Volleyball.”

“No way!” Kageyama jumps at how the other guy’s palms come down hard on the table and at the pitch of his voice. “I play too! Well, college volleyball, but still! I go to school in Brooklyn. That’s insane! God, that’s such a coincidence! And your whole team is here? Are you in some kind of tournament or something?”

“No, um… just visiting. Our coach wanted us to like… bond or something. We decided to just take a trip together while we had the time. I’m flying back tomorrow though, this was our last day.”

“Oh.” Kageyama isn’t that great at reading people, but he’s pretty sure that sounds like disappointment. “Well at least you found yourself a willing guide at the last minute then!” he does a ridiculous looking salute. “We shall get you back home safe and sound!”

“Thanks,” Kageyama mumbles. 

“Oh! I’m Hinata Shouyou by the way! I should have led with that, sorry!”

“Kageyama Tobio.”

Hinata smiles and takes a quick sip of his drink through a straw. Kageyama sits back in his chair a little easier. Knowing they have volleyball in common at least makes him feel a lot more at ease around this complete stranger. 

“So um… Hinata…”

“—Just Shouyou is fine.”

Kageyama pauses. 

“I mean… I’ve been here for a while now, I’ve gotten used to people calling me by my first name. And I don't really mind, either way, to be honest.”

He nods. It’s not like it matters, he’s going to be parting ways with him in a matter of minutes. 

“How long is ‘a while’?” he asks. He takes a sip of whatever Shouyou bought for him. Something with coke in it by the taste of it.

“I came here for college, so I’ve been here for three years. I’m about to go into my final year.”

Kageyama nods once again. 

“But uh…” Shouyou lets out another tiny giggle. “I’m not the best student, or at least I wasn't before. So I had to go somewhere where there was a good scholarship programme or I wouldn’t have stood a chance. So that’s why I chose St Francis… oh crap, sorry, you don’t even know where that is, I don’t know why I’m telling you.” He waves his hand and takes another sip of his drink, blushing. 

“Why didn’t you just go pro?”

Shouyou laughs. “You say that like it’s easy…” He looks to the side and Kageyama all of a sudden feels terrible. He’s only just met this person and he’s already managed to put his foot in it. 

In a sorry attempt to fix things, he offers, “You’re clearly very athletic and you have a passion for it if you travelled all the way out here just to have a chance to play, so I don’t see why not.”

“Yeah, well…” Kageyama knows that look all too well. It’s one he’s seen on too many faces in his search for his own career. He looks defeated. 

“What position do you play?” 

“Huh?” 

“On your college team. What position do yo—”

“—No, sorry sorry, I… I understood what you meant, it’s just uh…” he fidgets in his chair. “Honestly, you’re the first person who’s ever asked me that. People who are familiar with volleyball just assume I’m a libero.”

“Why? Because of your size?”

Shouyou nods, blushing.

“That seems a little stupid.” He’s met plenty of shorter players in his time. Granted, volleyball definitely favours size in most things, but there’s certainly something to be said for the agility that comes with a more petite frame. Not that there’s much about Shouyou that he would call petite; compact, perhaps, but he has a feeling he could lift the entire table above his head if he wanted to. 

“Anyway,” Kageyama says, grinding his teeth once he realises he’s just stared at his arms again, “I’ve met plenty of tall liberos, so those people clearly don’t know what they’re talking about. Granted, the one I play with is small. Smaller than you even, I think. But it’s not like it’s a requirement. And anyway, I’ve played with Nishinoya since high school and you sort of forget how small he is, he makes up for it in volume.”

God, he wishes every conversation in the world could be about volleyball. He already feels the awkwardness melting away second by second. This, he knows how to do. This, if he’s lucky, doesn’t make people think he’s a weirdo. 

Shouyou’s eyes go wide and he squeaks, “Nishinoya? As in Nishinoya _Yuu_?!”

“Yes…?”

“He was on the national team! He was at the _Olympics_ last year!”

“Yeah, I know…”

Shouyou scrunches up his nose and clenches his fists, shaking them vigorously. “Oh my _god_! You play with Nishinoya Yuu! You didn’t say you were a _pro_ volleyball player, you little liar!”

“Wh— hey!” So much for an easy conversation. “It’s not like you asked, dumbass!”

The insult either doesn’t phase him, or he doesn’t hear it. Probably the latter, because right now he looks like he has sirens going off behind his eyes. 

“Okay, okay,” he wheezes. “Now, I need to know _everything._ Shit, it’s getting so loud in here, it’s happy hour. Wanna get out of here? There’s a cute place around the corner.”

Kageyama feels like he’s short-circuited. The only place he was planning on going after this was straight back to the subway station he came from and to his hotel in order to get a good night’s sleep.

“Um…”

“Okay, great, let’s go _dumbass_.” He says it like it’s a term of endearment rather than an insult and with a cheeky, knowing glint in his eye. But Kageyama is less interested in _that_ and more interested in the fact that Shouyou has reached over the table and _grabbed Kageyama by the wrist_ , before pulling him up with his eyes sparkling and his grin wild. 

He drags Kageyama behind him and through the crowded bar, but it’s like they’re travelling through smoke. Kageyama can’t breathe over the fact that Shouyou has all but taken his hand after a conversation of about ten minutes. As though he’s known him his entire life. 

“Woah, that’s better!” Shouyou says. Or Kageyama thinks he does. It’s hard to tell over the ringing in his ears and that annoying thrumming in his chest. “So if you’re on a team with Nishinoya, that must mean you’re pretty good. What position do you play?”

“Setter,” Kageyama says, now that Shouyou has let go of his wrist and he can breathe again. 

“What’s the name of your team?” 

“ _Panasonic Panthers_.”

“Cool! Mine’s called the _Terriers_ but it’s not as cool. And it’s not pro, obviously. How long have you played with them?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

Shouyou smirks. “Well, clearly, I wasn’t asking enough questions before if I only _just_ found out that you’re a professional athlete. Also, How else am I supposed to get to know you?”

Kageyama gulps and prays that the sound is drowned out by the street noise still going on around them. He wasn’t even aware that _getting to know each other_ was something that they were supposed to be doing. It’s a little darker now, the sun having just about hidden itself behind the horizon and he hopes that the darkness might also mask his blush.

“I wouldn’t have thought a pro setter would get so easily embarrassed.” Kageyama turns to look at him, only to see a shit-eating grin. He has the sudden urge to pull his hair. 

“I-I’m not _embarrassed_!” 

“Hey, hey, I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” he chuckles. “It’s actually kinda… well, anyway…”

They experience their first awkward silence of this entire ordeal right there and then as Shouyou looks directly at the ground for a solid five seconds. “Oh look!” he then says. “We’re here.”

This bar is a little quieter than the one they just came from, albeit much darker. “It’ll liven up a little later, so we should be okay for some peace and quiet for now,” Shouyou says. 

There’s a persistent but quiet thrum of music coming from the speakers and if Kageyama was the sort of person who did this kind of thing, he would think that it’s a space meant for dancing. He assumes that’s what Shouyou meant when he said it would liven up.

They order another drink each and this time, Kageyama pays, before they take a seat away from the speakers. Shouyou’s making enough noise without them adding to it.

“I can’t believe Nishinoya Yuu is in this city right now.” He kicks his feet together under the table. 

“You’re such a fanboy.” Kageyama feels himself smile, the first genuine smile he’s had all day. He can’t help but think how Noya would lose his mind if he knew that Kageyama was talking to someone who knew his name.

“Hey, don’t judge me! Isn’t there someone you would die if you met them in real life? I mean, to be fair, I have a whole list of players I would kill to see.”

“To be honest with you, I try not to let a person's reputation affect me that much. It’s also hard to fawn over someone when they’re beating your ass in an actual game.”

“I had a really bad habit of freaking out whenever I met really awesome players in high school. A few times I even threw up. Literally.”

Kageyama finds it impossible to marry up the image of the person in front of him - the one who invited a stranger in for a drink like it was nothing and who took his hand - with a high schooler who was scared of his own shadow. But then he notices his wide-eyed enthusiasm and the way he clearly _feels_ things so deeply and perhaps it’s not a crazy leap to make after all. 

“You never told me what position you play,” Kageyama points out.

“Oh, right! I’m a middle at the moment. I, uh… I’ve always wanted to be an opposite, but I guess I wasn’t good enough or tall enough, I don’t know. I played middle in high school too, so I’m pretty familiar with the position at least.”

Kageyama wishes he could empathise. He’s never wanted to be anything else but a setter. He’s well-rounded in all the skills he needs and he knows it irritates the hell out of his spikers when he can hit just as well as they can. But there’s nowhere he’d rather be than at that netside position ready to send the ball precisely where it should be. 

“I played volleyball in high school too. We never met at nationals I don’t think?”

He would have remembered eyes as wild as that looking at him from across a net. But he keeps that to himself. 

Shouyou chuckles. “Yeah, no, we were never good enough to go there. We got to our prefectural finals once or twice, but we were usually eliminated earlier than that.”

“It took us a few tries to make it to nationals. Miyagi had a couple of real powerhouse schools at the time, so it wasn’t easy.”

“You went to school in Miyagi? Cooooool, I lived in Iwate! We were basically neighbours!”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Kageyama says with a short smile. 

“My roommate is from Miyagi actually! I’m super lucky, we found each other by accident honestly. After I moved out of my dorms in time for my second year, I was screwed because I still had nowhere to live during the summer. My grades were crap and I missed my mom and I was just considering packing the whole thing in and going back home. I went to a local Japanese place in Williamsburg to eat my feelings and she was in there crying because she’d accidentally spilt her tea all over the waiter, or something. I went to see if she needed help and we got to talking. She’s actually super smart, not like me! She goes to Parsons though, that’s a design school. We both needed somewhere to live, so we decided to try for a cheap place in Brooklyn if we could - I mean, not that it’s that cheap these days to be fair, but it’s cheaper than the city, and it’s close to my school-”

Kageyama almost zones out. He has no idea what Williamsburg or Brooklyn is or what _the city_ is. But what ends up causing him to interrupt is, “You have a female roommate?”

Shouyou barks out an energetic laugh and his eyes crinkle. “Oh, no, it’s not like that! She’s as gay as I am! So we’re a perfect match in that sense. But she basically helped me from failing my classes last year. She has this whole study system that’s really cool and organised and she helps me concentrate on my work.”

Kageyama feels the world halt beneath his feet and his throat go dry. “What?”

Shouyou cocks his head. “Huh?”

“Y-you’re…”

“ _Oh_!” his eyes go wide and he smiles with his teeth. “Well, yeah, was it not obvious by the fact that you bumped into me at a pride party whilst I was dressed like this?” He gestures to his outrageous shirt and now that Kageyama looks closely, he can see he’s wearing a rainbow necklace too. 

He tries to join the dots up as quickly as he can. The rainbows, the party, something reminiscent of what he’s seen on occasion in Osaka but on a much larger scale. It’s almost laughable that he missed it. 

All the progress they’ve made in the conversation thus far shatters just like that. He feels anxiety run up his spine at the thought of discussing his private life with anyone, let alone someone he’s just met that evening. He feels like running, but he’s torn by how rude it would look to just up and leave with no explanation. But he _cannot_ discuss this here. How he’s never had a poster of a girl up on his wall when he was younger. How he never understood the point of the body parts his teammates seemed to fawn over in school. How he still clearly remembers the first time he _did_ understand those feelings, but not till his late teens and certainly not when he thought about a girl. How his mother is still the only person he’s ever told and how he’s never been brave enough to do what everyone else does; go on dates, share intimate moments, fall in love. He could never imagine a world in which it would be as easy for him as laughing and declaring he’s gay to someone who he didn’t even know existed 24 hours ago. 

Shouyou starts to look concerned at his silence and finally asks, more vulnerable than he’s heard him up to now, “Is that, um… you don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“N-no!” he feels his cheeks heat and his eyes dart around the room. “No, I…”

He knows when he’s being studied. It’s the same heat on his skin that he used to get when he played in high school and could feel the eyes of other coaches on him. He’s burning with the weight of Shouyou’s stare.

“Kageyama…” 

He looks up at the sound of his own name coming from Shouyou’s mouth for the first time. He has a way of making it sound like music. He reaches over and touches Kageyama’s hand. It’s a gesture he thinks is meant to be comforting, but his heart starts beating faster at the contact, as well as how much smaller Shouyou’s hand looks in his. Is it normal for strangers to just touch other people’s hands like this in America? Or is this just something Shouyou does with people he meets? 

“It’s… it’s okay…” Shouyou whispers, loud enough for Kageyama to hear. 

He feels himself unravel at the look on Shouyou’s face. They’re complete strangers. They’ve known each other for less than an evening. And yet Shouyou looks at Kageyama like he’s known him his entire life. Like he’s stripped back every single one of his secrets. Or at least this one very important secret that he’s been carrying around with him so long he’s surprised he’s not been shackled to the ground by it. 

So this is what it feels like for someone else to know and to be looked at with nothing but understanding. He physically doesn’t have the words to respond. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to. Shouyou must either be able to tell, or he can’t bear the thought of not talking for more than a few seconds. His eyes narrow in a soft smile, before he asks, “You hungry?”

Kageyama breaths out a long, relieved sigh. “Starving.”

He forgets all about the subway he’s supposed to catch. 

* * *

“You haven’t had real Italian food till you’ve eaten in New York.” 

“That makes no sense,” Kageyama responds. What does New York have to do with Italy? He’s been to Italy once before and from what he remembers, the pizza was much nicer than whatever god awful thing Shouyou bought for them. 

“Nor does your way of reading the subway map. Good job I got us here in one piece.”

Kageyama has no idea where they are, but they needed a short subway ride in order to get there. In the meantime, Shouyou had explained the difference between the local and express trains and entertained him with stories about how badly he’d messed up when he was still finding his way in the city and didn’t speak any English. 

“Keep talking, Shortstack,” he says around a mouth full of food, blushing at being called out so thoroughly. 

His threat, once again, makes no difference to Shouyou. All he does is put his hand up to his face and sigh, “I’m wounded!”

It’s painfully adorable and Kageyama has to dig his nails into the fabric of his jeans to pull himself together.

“I’m surprised you’re not more wounded by the price of… this,” he says instead, blinking at the pizza between them. “How can you afford to eat out here?”

“Yeah, it’s not as cheap as back home, I’ll give you that. McDonald’s is a lifesaver.”

Kageyama closes his eyes and prays for divine patience. “How does your coach let you get away with that?”

“Who says he knows about it?” Shouyou says with a wicked gleam in his eye. Kageyama thinks that even if his coach was aware, Shouyou would be able to get away with anything he wanted with a face like that. 

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?” he asks. Anything to distract him from the sight of Shouyou licking grease off his fingers like a puppy. 

“To where, McDonald’s? I was just there yesterday…”

Kageyama grips the edge of the table. “ _No,_ back to Japan.”

“Oh.” Shouyou pauses his enthusiastic munching at that question and looks down at the table. “I… I haven’t really thought much about the future… I had my whole career planned from when I was in elementary school and it all came to nothing anyway, so I’d just rather see what happens.”

Kageyama can’t imagine not thinking about the future. It’s all he’s ever known. Planning, strategy, thinking ahead. Not just on the court itself, but throughout his entire career. But then again, he’s never had a reason to doubt. When it comes to his professional life at least, he’s never had to worry about the possibility of failure. 

“You seem to fit in here pretty well,” he says.

He’s thought that since the moment he laid eyes on him, and not just because of the insane colour he’s decided to dye his hair. He seems perfectly comfortable as though he’s lived here his whole life. Touchy and expressive, seemingly known by and friends with everyone. When he’d paid for their pizza, the lady referred to him by his first name. He’d been hanging out with a group of people when Kageyama showed up earlier and ruined his night. 

“I’ve gotten used to it, that’s for sure. It’s an incredible place to live, or at least, New York is.”

In all honesty, Kageyama has a feeling that Shouyou is the kind of person who could fit in anywhere he wanted. 

“I can imagine it’s difficult to move on from a place once you’ve built a life here. Even if your family is back home.” 

He can’t really understand it, but it seems like the right thing to say. He’s surrounded by the same people on a regular basis but still doesn’t have a single person in his life who really knows who he is. He’s never gotten close enough to someone to ask them to call him by his first name. Nishinoya still does, but mostly out of habit, he thinks, rather than any sort of intimacy. What does he know about building a life anywhere. The only thing he’s ever learnt how to build is success. Feeling as at home as Shouyou clearly is, seems impossible, no matter where in the world he’d be. He’d settle for feeling at home in his own skin.

“Honestly, I…” Shouyou says, his eyes dropping slightly. “I haven’t really been given a reason to go or to stay. I… I really don’t know what I’m going to do.”

There’s an awkward pause that Kageyama is sure is his own fault yet again. This is what he gets for trying to initiate conversations. 

“I’m sure your friends would be sad to see you go,” he says.

“Right! Yes, uh… yeah, of course they would.” It seems to perk him up, but now that he’s seen what Shouyou _actually_ looks like when he’s excited, this version feels strangely performative. 

“This pizza tastes shit,” Kageyama says in a desperate attempt to change the topic.

Shouyou scrunches up his nose. Too adorable, way too adorable. “That’s your bad taste talking. I dread to think what kind of ramen’s your favourite.”

“I prefer curry.”

“You’re dead to me.”

Kageyama smirks and rolls his shoulder to stretch out the muscles there. Just a force of habit, a nervous tic that calms him before a game. He feels a sharp pressure on his elbow where he’s extended it and sees that some unsuspecting passerby has walked straight into him. 

Pamphlets spill all over the floor and he feels his cheeks flame with humiliation. He moves to help, before realising he still has the pizza in his hand, so he drops it onto their shared plate and wipes his hands on his jeans.

He kneels down to start collecting the stray pamphlets as quickly as he can. “Excuse me, excuse me,” he chants in Japanese, before remembering where he is. “Excuse me,” he repeats in Japanese, frantically trying to remember the English word for it. “Sorry,” he says instead in what he’s sure is heavily accented English. 

The lady smiles and waves her hands around, but by the looks of things, she’s not angry. They manage to clean up the mess in just a few seconds and she waves at him with a friendly smile, before scurrying off.

Kageyama sits back down at their tiny table, looking straight down and praying for the ground to swallow him up.

“God, you’re so cute,” he hears Shouyou say. His eyes shoot up at that and he notices the second that Shouyou’s face goes from dreamy to horrified. He’d ask whether Shouyou’s about to have a stroke if he weren't struck so dumb by what he just heard. 

“I said that out loud?!” he squeaks, playing his hands on either side of his face, mortified. 

Kageyama nods.

“Crap! I, uh… that was the third drink talking, please ignore that! Um… want some more pizza?”

Kageyama still can’t kick his brain into gear enough to answer, so he just nods again.

He feels a drop of water on his hand when he reaches for another slice. It breaks the trance he’s in, especially once he feels several more, followed by a steady fall of rain within about twenty seconds. 

Shouyou laughs and goes to cover his hair, even though it’s pretty futile. “Crap! Quick, let’s get under cover!” he says in between his delighted sounds. 

Kageyama doesn’t know how someone can be that happy about every little thing around him. The only person he knows who comes close is Noya, but he’s a lot more aggressive about his appreciation of things as opposed to the wide-eyed optimism he sees in Shouyou. 

His hand is grabbed yet again, this time by the tips of his fingers, and Shouyou drags him through the streets, dodging the people still partying. Many of them are taking refuge in bars and restaurants now that the downpour has turned torrential. 

Shouyou squeals as the rain gets heavier and Kageyama lets himself be pulled along by his strong body and his crisp, light-hearted laughter. 

They’ve barely run twenty meters or so before they find a canopy above the entrance to some bar or restaurant for them to hide under. Shouyou can’t stop laughing and Kageyama feels it in his bones like it could penetrate the darkest parts of him. 

“Fucking New York summers, I swear to God!” 

He’s quite literally trying to shake the water off himself, wiping down his toned arms and squeezing the fabric of his shirt. Kageyama hears the drip of the water on the ground below and his clothes are probably just as saturated, but he’s too distracted by the small patch of skin that’s revealed when Shouyou lifts his shirt up slightly to wring it out. 

Despite his efforts, Shouyou’s hair is a lost cause by the looks of things. It’s about two shades darker from how wet it is, the kinks and curls nearly flattened with the impact. It reminds him a bit of how strange Noya had looked the first time he’d seen him with his hair wet. 

Seeing the droplets drip from his bangs onto the tip of his nose, from his ears, his chin, and the seeing the tiniest bits of water settle in his cupid’s bow sends Kageyama into an irritated frenzy. He either has to find a way to dry Shouyou off or he has to leave immediately. 

He takes off his own hoodie, the inside of which is still blessedly dry thanks to the layers, and holds it out.

“You wanna dry your hair?”

Shouyou is already in the process of shaking his head like a puppy that’s just been sprayed with a garden hose. 

“Don’t you need it?”

“I’m warm enough,” he mumbles. Or at least he certainly is after seeing what Shouyou looks like dripping wet. 

Shouyou looks at him properly and takes the hoodie from him. “Such manners,” he says, eyes glinting. “I bet people eat that up, huh? Plus you’ve got that mysterious thing about you. You’re probably fighting them off with a stick.”

Kageyama keeps quiet while Shouyou uses his hoodie to towel-dry his hair. He doesn’t have a clue how to respond to that and doesn’t even fully understand what Shouyou is talking about, but he definitely doesn’t miss the look on Shouyou’s face when he puts the hoodie down and looks at Kageyama properly. Or more so, directly at his arms, which are only hidden now by the navy t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Um…” Shouyou says, and Kageyama is almost sure he didn’t mean to say that one either. His hair is the definition of a disaster. If it was untamed before, now it’s positively feral. Some parts wetter than others and resembling a ginger halo more than any sort of haircut. 

Before Kageyama can come up with any embarrassing response to Shouyou’s appreciation, he hears his phone ring. It makes them both jump. 

He forgets to check the caller ID - too busy staring at Shouyou’s hair to do anything logical - but it soon becomes apparent when he hears a high pitched, nasally growling coming from the other end of the line, who it is that’s calling him.

_“You wanna tell me where you are, and why you’re not at Madison Square Garden, where I’ve been waiting for you for thirty minutes, Shitty-yama?!”_

Kageyama grimaces. Nishinoya has always had his particular brand of scolding. And Kageyama definitely knows that’s what’s happening right now. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I got lost.”

_“Why didn’t you at least call me?! Or literally anyone else?! You shat your brains out or something?!”_

“No, uh…” he scrambles for an excuse. “My phone died, I just managed to charge it now.” He’s not a fan of lying, but it’s better than the wrath he’ll incur if he tells him the truth; that for the first time in his life, he lost track of time because he was enjoying the company of another person.

 _“Well, where are you?”_ he sounds a little calmer, seemingly having accepted the excuse. 

“I, uh…” _Where are we?_ He mouths to Shouyou. He mouths something back at him, but Kageyama can’t make out the words, so Shouyou just says it out loud. “Little Italy?” Kageyama repeats slowly. 

_“How the fuck did you end up all the way down there?”_

“I got on an express instead of a local,” he says, parroting Shouyou’s explanation. 

Noya cackles down the phone. _“Good one, man! Hey guys, it’s okay, I found him, he’s dragged his ass to Little Italy by mistake. You need me to come get you?”_ he directs at Kageyama. 

“No uh…” he looks at Shouyou’s smiling face and expectant eyes. “No, I’m just gonna stay where I am still the rain stops. I’ll find my way back, you guys head back to the hotel.”

_“If you say so, man. Any problems just call me, okay? With your sense of direction, you’ll end up in Canada.”_

“See you later, Noya,” he mumbles and hangs up the phone. 

Shouyou’s eyes go wide. “Was that—was— was that _Nishinoya Yuu_?!” He looks ready to explode with orange glitter or whatever it is that lives inside him.

“No.”

“It was!”

“No.”

“ _Kageyaaaamaaaaa_!”

He smiles, despite trying to keep a straight face. He’s just too easy. “You wanna stand out here all night?”

Shouyou makes a disgruntled face but drags Kageyama into the bar by the arm. He pretends not to notice the tiniest pressure he feels as Shouyou squeezes his bicep. 

* * *

It’s not late by a regular person’s standards, but Kageyama is an athlete who gets up at 5 am every day, so 9 pm is already pushing his limit. When they go up to order a drink, Kageyama frowns in embarrassment and asks Shouyou to order him a coffee. 

“You wanna try and do it?” Kageyama frowns at the question, so Shouyou elaborates, “You wanna order it? It’s almost the same as in Japanese.”

He can’t imagine anything he’d rather do less, but Shouyou blinks up at him with his big brown eyes and refusing his suggestion seems equally as impossible. Shouyou repeats the simple English sentence for him over and over until he isn’t tripping over his words. His knees knock the entire time and continue to do so as he shakily carries the cup over to the table. 

Shouyou teases him relentlessly for being an old grandpa with his cup of coffee. “You’re gonna look like one too if you don’t stop frowning like that, Grumpy-yama.”

“Not all of us can get by on 4 hours of sleep and a McDonalds for breakfast, Carrot Top.” 

Shouyou gives him a light kick under the table and they fall into a comfortable silence. Nothing like their previous one at the restaurant. Kageyama just sips his coffee and Shouyou taps his fingers and bobs his head to whatever pop tune is playing. Kageyama isn’t really good with recognising music, especially American music. 

They sit and observe people coming in and out. So many people in rainbow attire, just like Shouyou. So many people comfortable enough to express their truest desires and feelings in a way that Kageyama marvels at. 

There’s a slow round of applause as a couple of people jump up onto a slightly raised platform for what looks like karaoke. Kageyama glances at Shouyou and he looks delighted with the proceedings, clapping and cheering as the song starts. It’s two girls up on stage, singing some sort of sweet, energetic song that has Kageyama tapping his foot lightly under the table. They seem sweet together, comfortable and probably in love. Kageyama’s not particularly good at recognising it, but he’s pretty sure that that’s what it looks like.

They clap once the song finishes and the bar returns to its normal chatter. He looks from the podium to Shouyou only to find him already staring in his direction. He doesn’t seem surprised when Kageyama looks over. He only smiles softly and takes a sip of his drink. 

“I want to see you play,” Kageyama blurts out. It’s been on his mind all night, but he blames the fatigue that’s setting in for the abrupt delivery.

Shouyou grins. “Right now? I think we’d cause a bit of a scene.”

“No, I…” he hadn’t thought this part through. “Just… at some point.” He doesn't know what he means by that. He’s never going to see Shouyou again after tonight. He doesn’t think about that. Doesn’t want to delve into why it bothers him that he’ll be getting on a plane to Tokyo tomorrow and leaving Shouyou and his bright eyes and handsome smile here in this city. 

“I uh… I might have a video on my phone, hang on.”

It’s certainly the next best thing. Shouyou digs in his back pocket and pulls out his phone. It’s protected by a battered-looking case with the slogan _The way of the ace_ written on it. Shouyou slides up next to him, close enough that Kageyama can smell is shampoo, and just before he unlocks his phone, Kageyama sees a picture of a girl doing a peace sign at the camera. He doesn’t get a good look at her, but she looks young - probably a teenager - and has the same goofy smile that Shouyou does, her hair in two adorable pigtails. 

Shouyou rummages around in his photo gallery and Kageyama looks away to offer him the privacy that Shouyou clearly doesn’t care about. Before he averts his eyes, he sees what look like gym photos, a bunch of selfies with other people in them and multiple pictures of dogs. 

“Okay, here we go.” 

He plays a video from what looks like one of his official matches. There’s already something about him that hits differently when he’s in a volleyball uniform. It looks like it belongs on him. Kageyama doesn’t really know a thing about him, but he can see the difference in him just from what he’s wearing. He looks wholeheartedly himself. 

He watches in utter silence. The speed at which he can move. The way his body adapts to what’s coming. He has his weak spots, of course, but he’s a force of nature, the type of which Kageyama has rarely seen, if ever. He’s the very definition of beautiful. And when he jumps for the first time, Kageyama audibly gasps. 

His form, his height, the expression on his face. He’s flying.

They replay the spike in slow motion and Kageyama forgets how to breathe. He slams the phone down onto the table and tries to remember how. 

“You…” he tries. “Your setter is taking it easy on you.”

Shouyou furrows his brow in confusion. 

Kageyama tries to get his words out of the tangle they’ve become in his head. He’s lightheaded with excitement and irritation. More on the side of frustration at whoever is setting for him, because what are they _doing_?

“You’re… god, you speed. Your height. There’s no reason you can’t hit sets even faster than that. You could be so fast that no blocker would be able to keep up with you.”

“Oh…” He looks completely dazed like he’s in a trance.

“I’m serious,” Kageyama almost bites out. “They’re wasting their time with you. This isn’t your full potential. You should be going pro.”

Belatedly, Kageyama realises he might have gone too far. That he’s stuck his ore in where it wasn’t needed. But Shouyou needs to hear it. He needs to be on the world stage where everyone gets to experience what Kageyama just did. He feels the bone-shattering need to have Shouyou beside him on the court. To show everyone exactly what he can do. _He_ could get it out of him.

The tension piles on thick like honey as they remain silent. It’s not till the sound of someone speaking into a microphone startles them that they look away from one another. Shouyou looks a little off-balance, but he perks up the second he hears something specific coming from the man’s mouth. He raises his hand and says something in English, before hopping to his feet. 

“You wanna sing with me?” he chirps. 

“ _No,”_ Kageyama says without a hint of discussion in his tone. 

“Come ooooon, it’s fun!” 

“I don’t know the words. And I can’t read them either, numbskull.” Even if he could it would still be a resounding _no_. 

“Have you never heard Whitney Houston before?!” Kageyama shakes his head and Shouyou smirks at him. “Well, you’re about to.”

He jumps up onto the podium to loud applause and Kageyama watches him sing without the smallest hint of embarrassment. It’s something upbeat and engaging, the sort of song that would probably be good to dance to.

But he very quickly stops caring about the song or a single thing on the planet, because Shouyou is very clearly singing directly at him. He doesn’t draw attention to it, but his eyes meet Kageyama’s at every opportunity they can. He skips and struts and dominates the entire bar with his enthusiasm and what is actually a beautiful singing voice. As though he’s performing in front of a crowd of thousands. 

Kageyama instantly despises him. That he showed him this and the video and everything else in between when Kageyama will be on the other side of the world in a matter of hours. 

When he’s finished, the crowd applauds, but Kageyama has forgotten how to move his limbs. 

When Shouyou skips back over to him, he finally looks a little shy, which is utterly outrageous given the way he just enchanted everyone in the room.

“So, uh… it’s still raining, huh?”

“Yeah…” Kageyama breaths around the lump in his throat. 

* * *

They sit in that crowded karaoke bar for two whole hours.

Kageyama goes through two more coffees in the meantime and feels his energy levels rising, though he’s not sure if that’s the caffeine or just Shouyou.

They obsessively discuss the ins and outs of the current volleyball season. Shouyou tries to convince Kageyama that spikers are cooler than setters. Kageyama gets so passionate in defending his _far_ superior position that he nearly knocks his cup over. Shouyou revels in every second of it and Kageyama doesn’t think another person has ever paid attention to him like that before unless they’ve been trying to scout him. 

Shouyou not-so-subtly asks about Noya. Everything to do with him. His favourite breakfast food, his gym routine, what hair products he uses. Kageyama threatens him with a half-hearted warning of a restraining order and Shouyou just sticks his tongue out at him. It’s insane to think that _he’s_ the one who is six months older, or so they find out an hour into their conversation. He may have the charisma and the confidence of someone who’s lived a hundred lives before, but he also wears pink sneakers with rainbow laces. Or maybe that’s just for today. 

It gets to midnight and the barman warns that it’s nearly time to start closing up. 

“Shit!” Shouyou gasps. “Is that the time?” 

“What’s the matter?”

“I…” there’s that flustered look on him again. “I sort of… well, the thing is… this is really embarrassing.” Kageyama didn’t realise he was capable of feeling embarrassed. “Well, the thing is I sorta… I have to take these meds once a day and I sorta left them back in my apartment. I wasn’t meant to be out this late, so I figured I’d just go home and take them but now it’s later than I thought, but it’s okay I can take them in the morning…”

Kageyama can see him getting flustered, though he’s not sure why. Of all the things to worry about, that doesn’t seem like something he should wave his arms over.

“Do you live far?”

“Sorta yeah, I live in Brooklyn… It’s fine, honestly, I…”

“No, you… you should go.” 

He doesn’t dare say that the thought of separating makes him want to scream. Makes his anxiety climb the walls, not only with the idea of getting back to his hotel alone but also not having Shouyou’s chatter in his ear. 

But it had to end at some point. It might at well be now. He just wants it to be over as quickly as possible before he throws up. 

Shouyou looks disarmingly vulnerable as he murmurs, “Would you… would you like to come with me? I promise I’ll take you back to midtown myself, I just…” 

His lungs physically ache with how much he’s holding his breath. There’s no reason for Shouyou to want him around this much. Why hasn’t he already discarded him, dropped him off at the nearest stop with half baked instructions and a sigh of relief to be rid of him with his awkward pauses and lack of conversation skills.

Shouyou may be the very definition of a mystery, but for once in his life, Kageyama has no need to ask someone to interpret what another person is trying to say. For whatever reason, Shouyou is just as desperate to prolong this as Kageyama is. And he’s going to claw at every last scrap if it kills him. 

“Yeah,” he breaths. 

* * *

Halfway to the subway stop, Shouyou brings his hand down and threads their fingers together. Kageyama thinks he might be imagining it at first, but then he feels his pulse against the pads of his fingertips. Neither of them say anything. They don’t even look at each other. Shouyou just walks him to where they need to be, shoulders pressed together, listening to the sounds of the city. 

He stays plastered to Kageyama as they ride the subway, both of them seemingly terrified to break the stillness and silence that’s naturally formed around them. Kageyama feels the rocking motion of the car lull him into a dreamlike state. A state in which this particular night goes on forever. Where Shouyou drags him by his hand across the whole city, across the entire _world_ and feeds him his kindness and wild smiles for the rest of his days. 

“Oh, I just remembered!” Shouyou blurts out, startling a sleeping gentleman nearby. He makes a guilty face and then lowers his voice when he continues, “There’s supposed to be a concert or festival type thing going on all night near my neighbourhood for Pride. Should we… should we check it out?”

Kageyama hates crowds. Hates being shoved and swarmed. But he’ll do anything, _anything_ to stop this from ending any time soon. 

“Sure,” he says as calmly as he can, “But what about your medication?”

“We don’t have to stay for long. And anyway, in the worst case I’ll just be too hyper to sleep, but if we’re going to the concert, that’s probably gonna happen anyway.”

Kageyama realises too late that he’s failed to mask the curious look on his face, because Shouyou shuffles in his seat and looks around the car. The only other person with them is the sleeping guy who already seems to be in a world of his own again. 

“They’re, um… well you see, I have ADHD, so I take them once a day and they help with that. Stop my mind making as many GWAH noises.” Kageyama is pretty sure that’s neither English nor Japanese. It’s very likely that it’s just Shouyou. “I also sometimes take anti-anxiety ones when I need them. But that’s not very often, um…” 

He all of a sudden turns his face to hide it in Kageyama’s shoulder. Kageyama doesn’t know if it’s the freezing air conditioning on the train or the smell of Shouyou’s hair so close that makes him shiver. 

If there was ever someone less apt at soothing someone else’s problems it would definitely be Kageyama. He has no idea if it’s the right thing to say, but he murmurs, “I wouldn’t have guessed, to be honest.” 

Because he can’t believe that someone who got up in front of a room full of people to sing, and who started talking to Kageyama the second he met him, and who held his hand as though they’d known each other forever, could ever get anxious about anything. 

“It’s… it’s really only before games,” Shouyou says, his voice muffled a bit by Kageyama’s arm. “I suffer from panic attacks. It was worse in high school though, I barely get them now, but yeah, it’s…”

Shouyou makes himself physically smaller against Kageyama’s side and he resists the urge to put an arm around him. He’s had a couple of panic attacks in his life. And every time it’s happened, he’s been alone. In a locker room, in his room, in the recesses of his mind. It had felt like the embodiment of death but without the final destination. The thought of Shouyou experiencing something similar makes him clench every muscle in his body.

“I take them too,” he says hoarsely. Shouyou looks up from his makeshift cushion with glassy eyes. “I take anti-anxiety medication too. I have since high school. So it’s… it’s okay.”

He feels unspeakably awkward. Like he’s too big for his own body, or his tongue is too big for his own mouth. He should never try to console.

Shouyou smiles sleepily and Kageyama finally feels him relax against his shoulder. He wriggles his smaller arm around Kageyama’s elbow and holds onto him for the rest of the ride.

* * *

Shouyou’s drowsiness doesn’t last very long once they arrive at the venue. 

The first thing that Kageyama notices is screaming colour. And then, actual screaming. 

It’s everything he would normally avoid, but somehow, Shouyou acts like the antidote he never knew existed. He threads their fingers together and drags Kageyama into the crowd, looking over his shoulder with a wild smile and eyes that seem like they’re made from the sun itself. 

The second they reach the crowd, Shouyou throws his arms up and gets lost in the rhythm and the energy of whatever is happening on stage. As Kageyama watches him, he feels the rest of the world fade into black and white. He doesn’t believe for a second that colour is something that could have existed before Shouyou. He watches him jump and shake his head as though it’s in slow motion. The same way he’d watched him spike that set from the video earlier. 

Shouyou then turns his feral eyes on him and Kageyama notices how still he’s standing. 

He probably should have warned him that he’d be no good at this. It’s a good thing that this was a free event; at least they won’t have wasted their money if they have to leave after five minutes because of Kageyama’s lack of musical talent. He still remembers the first time he was mocked for his lack of impromptu dance talent when his first team had insisted they go out and explore the local nightlife together. 

Shouyou, apparently, has no qualms about how badly Kageyama could embarrass him, because he grabs Kageyama by the arm and pulls him towards him like he has done so many times tonight already. But this time, he takes him by both his hands and looks directly into his eyes for what feels like years. It can’t have been, because the same song is playing. It’s a magnetic and hypnotic dance-pop song that hits him in the chest at every beat. It’s the type of sound that feels like it should come with its own kaleidoscope of colours. It makes him feel like he’s in a dream, or drunk. Or maybe it’s just Shouyou.

Shouyou starts to encourage them to move, stepping backwards and forwards, never once taking his eyes off Kageyama, keeping that lifeline completely intact. When Kageyama doesn’t manage to find the rhythm straight away, Shouyou puts his hands to his waist, trying to sway him from side to side, his eyes crinkling with laughter. 

No matter how badly Kageyama does at this, Shouyou never seems discouraged. He revels in teaching Kageyama how to dance, taking his hands and making Kageyama spin him and pull him in and out, jumps around him and pokes at Kageyama’s waist teasingly. 

There comes a moment - Kageyama can’t keep track of where, whether it’s during that song, or countless others - where he feels something inside of him break. Where he looks at Shouyou’s carefree body and his hair bouncing all over the place now that’s fully dry and feels a pressure bubble inside his chest. 

It comes out as a laugh. Loud and full, nearly knocking the air out of his lungs. Shouyou stares at him as though he just offered him a spot on the Olympic team. He ceases his own movement just for that one moment and watches as Kageyama loses himself in his own happiness. Of hearing the music thrum in his ears and feeling the vibrations below his feet. 

Shouyou starts laughing then too, and flings his arms around Kageyama so he’s forced to pick him up slightly, accommodating their height difference. He swings him around as best as he can with the space they have. When he puts him down, Shouyou takes his hands again and the two of them find a goofy, broken rhythm that makes no sense but works perfectly for them. 

Shouyou puts his hands to Kageyama’s hip and brings them closer, initiating a slightly slower rhythm, something more intimate than before. It’s not sexual, but Kageyama still gets to feel the strength in that tiny body as Shouyou helps them dance the night away together as though the touch and movement of their bodies could slow down time itself and ensure this never ends. 

He stares at Kageyama with increased longing. Kageyama wouldn’t understand it for what it is if it wasn’t for having seen the same look on his face earlier when he’d watched him play. He never dreamt that he’d be the recipient of a look like that. Not from a man like this, who seems to ignore all of his most unlikeable qualities and turn them into something to laugh about. Not from anyone. 

At one point, his eyes glaze over and he brings his forehead to Kageyama’s chin. It’s all he can reach without Kageyama bending down, but he feels Shouyou breathe against his throat and it makes a marvel of his heartbeat. 

In a maddening moment of dizziness and sensation, Kageyama thinks that he could very well kiss him. If they weren’t surrounded by hundreds of other people. If he could hear his own thoughts. If they were somewhere else, in another time.

He feels Shouyou pull him down so that he can speak clearly in his ear over the madness around them. “You wanna go?”

Kageyama nods. 

* * *

They walk hand in hand to a nearby park. Kageyama doesn't even think to question it this time when Shouyou takes his hand. He’s already missed it in the minutes that they aren’t touching. 

The grass is still wet from the storm earlier and so they wander around until they find a grandstand to sit on. He’s been walking and dancing now for hours and it’s absolutely not the same as volleyball training. He’s exhausted. 

He has no idea what time it is and doesn’t want to know. He already knows their time is coming to a close. All he’s waiting for is that hint of daylight over the horizon to tell him that it’s time to say goodbye.

He lays back against the wood of the stand and stretches his arms and legs. If he falls asleep right here, maybe he’ll miss his flight. 

Shouyou sits next to him and Kageyama catches him looking again the same way he had at the karaoke bar. He brings his hand to the side of Kageyama’s face and strokes him as softly as though he would break. He’s not used to being handled like this. It’s too much. 

“Can I?” He hears Shouyou whisper. He opens his eyes again to see Shouyou’s eyes nearly in tears. Kageyama doesn’t trust himself to speak. All he can do is nod and hope that it comes across how much he wants Shouyou to kiss him. 

He watches Shouyou come down on one elbow and feels him softly trace his bottom lip. The kiss approaches him like a wave on the shore and Kageyama finally, _finally_ gets swallowed up by it. 

It’s nothing like what he’s always feared it would be; strange and alien and unwelcome. Or too wet, too dry, too unfamiliar. He doesn’t have the space in his head to think about anything but the beat of his own heart and the feeling of being utterly held. Not by someone’s body, but by their tenderness. Shouyou is so very careful with him. Almost hesitant. But Kageyama is sure as anything that he wants this too. He breathes against Kageyama’s mouth as he settles into the kiss. It’s long, but soft, the product of just as many soft touches and tender glances that they’ve given each other for hours now. It’s like they’re both scared to disturb the other, or to disturb the quiet. 

Kageyama wants to break down and sob with how complete it makes him feel. Because none of it is going to last. It might as well be in a dream. 

Shouyou pulls back and they both let out a tiny whimper. He’s too scared to speak, to even breathe. He can’t bring himself to find the words to tell Shouyou that that was his first kiss. And that nothing else will ever live up to it for as long as he lives. 

“Come home with me,” Shouyou whispers. “ _Please_.”

Kageyama tenses and Shouyou feels it, because his eyes go wide and he stutters, “G-god, no, no, I, we…” He brings a hand to Kageyama’s face again and he instantly feels more grounded. “We don’t have to do anything. God, we don’t even have to kiss again, I just…” Kageyama can’t believe he still has the words to form full sentences. “Just please don’t go yet. I’ll take you to JFK myself tomorrow, just… a few more hours, _please_.”

Kageyama can’t imagine a world in which he could ever refuse him. 

His phone ringing nearly makes his heart fall out of his ass. He winces before he even answers it. 

_“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT FUCKING TIME IT IS, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”_

Noya’s voice sounds like half words and half slurs and Kageyama asks, “Are you drunk?”

 _“NEVER MIND THAT!_ ” 

It certainly explains why this is the first time he’s bothered him since their last conversation. 

“Relax, Noya, I…” he looks to Shouyou. “I’m with someone. I’m not on my own.”

_“Oh my god, you got kidnapped, didn’t you? This is what happens when I let you wander off on your own. Are you dead?!”_

“You’re one year older than me,” Kageyama reminds him for what feels like the thousandth time. “And who’s going to be looking after _you_ when you’re hungover on the plane tomorrow?”

_“Don’t talk back to me! Who’s kidnapped you? I’ll kill them!”_

“He’s not a kidnapper, he’s… he’s a fan of yours actually…”

 _“A fan?”_ Kageyama feels the tone shift as though it was something physical. _“Ah, well in that case, I’m sure he’s a decent guy! When are you coming back?”_

“Actually, I uh… I’ll just see you at the airport.”

_“... I see…”_

He doesn’t understand how he can see Noya’s penetrating stare without him even being here. 

_“For fuck’s sake, FINE, I’ll pack your sorry excuse for a suitcase. If you’re late, I’m leaving you behind. Oh, and I’m gonna order porn from your hotel room.”_

“Wha— wai—” but the line goes dead. 

“Well, they say never meet your heroes,” Shouyou says, trying to hide his giggles behind one hand. 

“No, just never meet Nishinoya,” Kageyama sighs. 

* * *

They walk the streets of Brooklyn together and Shouyou points out all of his favourite places to stop and eat, to buy sports supplies from, to get ice cream. After about ten minutes, Kageyama pulls from the bravery that had helped him agree to Shouyou kissing him and he asks, “Shouyou… am I… am I the only person you’ve told about… your medication?”

It’s been on his mind for hours and he may be overstepping, he can’t really tell at this point. But he has to at least give it a try. 

Shouyou blushes and stiffens slightly, but otherwise seems fairly okay to have been asked the question. 

“I don’t… I mean…” Kageyama watches him search for his words. He’s only known Shouyou for one night but he thinks he might already see where the cracks in his confidence are. “I don’t really have any that I could tell… friends I mean… Like, I don’t really have friends, not like that. My roommate knows, I guess she’s my friend - that is, we live together, right? So I see her every day. But uh… yeah, there’s not really… anyone else.”

Kageyama must be understanding it wrong. Maybe in all the fatigue, he’s lost the ability to understand Japanese altogether. Shouyou must be talking about someone else, because the person he’s been with tonight is far from friendless. 

“But… everyone likes you… and those people you were with at the bar, when I bumped into you…”

“Oh, I’d just met them today. I don’t even think they noticed I left,” Shouyou chuckles.

Kageyama feels a momentary rush of fear that perhaps Shouyou just does this with all his so-called friends. That Kageyama is no one special after all. But he stamps it out as quickly as he can. It doesn’t matter if Shouyou never remembers his name after this night, because he’s not going to sully the memory of their time together with the thought that it might have meant nothing. 

“You’ve been here for years, though…” he marvels. 

He knows it’s hypocritical, but he’s never pretended that he has good people skills. It seems almost expected for someone like Kageyama to be friendless. For Shouyou, on the other hand, to have spent so much time here and still be mostly a stranger to those around him...

“I mean, I _know_ a lot of people. Like, my phone contacts are insane. I never have an issue finding people to spend time with, don’t get me wrong. But I don’t really… Like, I don’t tell them the serious stuff. I don’t spend much time with people for long. Just to do fun stuff with, you know? Just to hang out.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I guess… People like me a lot when I’m happy and cheerful. It’s just… easier to keep it that way. Someone once told me I reminded them of sunshine and I just… I think it’s better that way. No one wants the bad stuff.”

 _I do,_ he thinks desperately. He so very nearly says it.

But how is he supposed to find the words to tell him that this is the first time in his volleyball career, possibly even for as long as he can remember, that he hasn’t felt the sting of chronic loneliness in the presence of someone else. That it’s nothing short of a miracle that he hasn’t panicked at the touch of another person. That he’s looked into someone else’s eyes and considered the possibility that he could find a home there. 

But he says nothing. He stays quiet until the moment they reach Shouyou’s front door and the silence is only broken when Shouyou says, “My roommate will be at her girlfriend’s tonight, so you don’t need to worry about meeting anyone new.”

Kageyama wants to kiss him all over again.

They make their way up to his apartment in complete silence and Kageyama takes in the architecture, so different from the buildings he’s used to back home. The apartment is small though, so not too dissimilar from Osaka in that respect. He catalogues various volleyball-related knick-knacks, a trophy here a spare kneepad there. When they make it to Shouyou’s room, he sees random items of clothing scattered on the chair, on the floor and even on the ceiling fan. The bed is unmade and the posters on his wall are slightly worn and torn. It seems so very much like a space that he would sleep in that Kageyama wants to laugh.

“You can uh…” Shouyou says. “You can sleep in here and I can go to my roommate's room if you want?”

Kageyama can’t imagine even something as thin as a wall separating them. 

“I want to stay here.”

Shouyou smiles, and Kageyama thinks that whoever likened him to the sun might just be a genius. 

* * *

His bed is just about big enough for two people. They lay side by side, their noses touching and Shouyou links their fingers together, resting them on Kageyama’s hip. 

“I should…” Shouyou whispers. “I should probably tell my team about the… about the ADHD, right? And the panic attacks…”

“I think… I think you should do what feels right,” he says. “I’m not the best person to ask to be honest. No one knows that I’m… I don’t have anyone to tell either. People tend to be put off by me, so I don’t have any friends either. I… I never have.” 

He feels the hollow feeling claw up into his throat. That tomorrow he’ll go back to his old life and his apartment in Osaka that won’t have the smell of Shouyou’s hair. A small, angry part of him wishes he’d never met Shouyou, because if he thought his life was bearable before, now it’s going to be a painful drag from morning to night. 

“Silly-yama,” Shouyou says. “So focused on volleyball that you can’t even see how lucky you are.”

“What?”

“You were only missing for a couple of hours before Nishinoya called you to check that you were alright. And again earlier. Trust me, people don’t do that if they don’t care. And if you’re wrong about him, I’m betting you’re wrong about a lot of things.”

Kageyama blushes. “He’s just like that, he likes to lord it over me that he was in a higher grade at school.” 

Shouyou hums. “You’re an idiot,” he murmurs, but it doesn’t come out as anything but a term of endearment. “But you’ll see one day. I might not know him, but if you think you wanna tell someone that you’re gay, I’d say he’s a good person to start with.”

He thinks back to Shouyou’s unbridled optimism and confidence and by the way he’s fearlessly made his way through Kageyama’s broken exterior. How he’d made him laugh and dance and run hand and hand in the rain. And now that he’s lying with him nose-to-nose, like they’ve done it a million times already and will do a million times in the future, telling at least one other person doesn’t seem like it would shatter his whole world. It’s already been thoroughly shattered by the man in his arms and it’s not like he can ever go back now.

“Can I kiss you again?” Shouyou breathes.

“Yes please.”

They kiss for long, lazy minutes, both of them utterly exhausted and emotionally drained. Kageyama puts his hands on Shouyou’s waist and Shouyou touches his face like he’s cherishing him. 

Just when he thinks they’ll fall asleep like that, Kageyama feels Shouyou’s lips move against his as he says, voice thin and vulnerable, “God, Tobio, I could fall in love with you so easily.” Kageyama feels his bones quake at the sound of his first name. A name he told Shouyou almost a hundred years ago, it seems. And he still remembered it. “I know that sounds weird, god, you don’t have to say anything back. Just… just tell me it’s not just me? Can you at least tell me if you’re feeling it too?”

He hopes to god Shouyou can’t hear how loud his heart is beating. He screws his eyes shut and breathes out a long, controlled breath. “I do. I really, really do.”

Shouyou wraps his arms around him and Kageyama has a bad feeling it might be so he can hide his face in Kageyama’s chest. To possibly stop the tears. “Please don’t forget me,” he whimpers into his shirt, barely audible. “When you go back to Japan, please don’t forget me.”

Kageyama is pretty sure he couldn’t forget Shouyou even if someone erased this entire day from existence. “I won’t,” he whispers. He’s never been good with words, but Shouyou relaxes anyway, and they finally, finally sink into sleep. 

* * *

He sleeps almost the entire way back to Tokyo. He dreams of small hands and red hair and bright lights. He dreams of warm touches on his face and a soft, nasally voice. When he wakes up, he thinks it was all a dream. He doesn’t know if he wishes that it were or not. 

He closes his eyes again and remembers waking up mere hours before, the sleepy shape of Shouyou next to him in their tiny cocoon. He’s apparently a deep sleeper, because even as Kageyama uses the bathroom and washes up, he doesn’t stir once. 

And when Kageyama returns back to the bedroom and sees his messy nest of curls against the pillow and his closed eyes and hears his gentle snores in the quiet room, he does the most selfish thing he’s ever done in his life so far. 

Instead of waking him up, letting him take him to JFK as he said he would, and knowing full well that when he gets there, there isn’t a single human being on the planet that will make him get on that plane - not when he looks into his eyes once more and hears his voice and feels his arms around him in a soul-shattering hug - instead of having to say goodbye to the first taste of true happiness he’s ever known, he takes out his phone and calls for a taxi.

As he falls back to sleep on the plane, miles and time zones away from New York City, he dreams of the note he’d left on the pillow next to Shouyou’s face. 

In carefully practised kanji - and after ten agonising minutes of deciding, along with his personal email address - it reads:

_You can fly even higher._

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimer, but I am not a manga person, so please no spoils in the comments, even though this is an AU <3
> 
> I'll be perfectly honest my lovelies, because I love you all, but I wrote this in about eight or so hours. It's the only piece of fic I'll be posting for Kagehina Week as far as I know, but it nearly killed me getting this done, so I may just sleep forever now haha.
> 
> I hope you like this mad rush attempt at a "they fell in love in one night" story. I am a bit of a strange one, because I adore the slowest of slowburns, and then I also adore the stories in the style of the Before Trilogy (if you haven't watched it YOU MUUUUUUUST) where two strangers who desperately needed to meet each other, meet in the right place at the right time. This is my homage to that <3
> 
> For those that are curious, the song that Hinata sings in the karaoke bar is I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston, and the song that they first dance to at the festival is [This is Real](https://youtu.be/cBHUeJZrCH0) by Jax Jones. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading guys!
> 
> Love Roxanne xxx
> 
> *
> 
> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/misssnowfox)to spam me about kagehina <3
> 
> ____
> 
> UPDATED A/N
> 
> I can't thank you enough for all the lovely words you've had to say about my fic, but I've decided, at least for the time being, to disable comments on all my fics up to this point. New fics will have comments enabled, but email notifications turned off. This has nothing to do with any negative experiences with anyone commenting (as you can see if you read, it's all very very kind), but I've just found the experience a little too overwhelming for me personally in terms of responding and no matter how many people tell me not to worry, it's not going away, and I know the more I write the more it'll frustrate me. I didn't want to let new people comment on the story and feel ignored or left out because they thought I refused to reply to them. So the best way for me to do that is just to disable all fics where there are already existing comments. I know this can be horribly frustrating for some folks, so if you really would like to get in touch with me, I LOVE talking to new people and you an reach me via my twitter (linked in the A/N) or through my discord handle which is Roxanne#6113
> 
> I love you all and if you happen to find this fic after this A/N was written I hope you enjoy it and I love you all!


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